


Therapy

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Carmel CA, Hormone therapy, July 1st Nvanfield Day, M/M, MRI scan, Nivanfield, Piers’ electric arm, Prostate cancer, Rumors, Secrets, Strong Language, Surfing, Urology, Vacation, side-effects, slice-of-life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 18:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19447285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: A ‘slice of life’ one-off to celebrate #July 1st: Nivanfield Day. My life actually. It’s a serious subject, but I’ve tried to approach it here with humour. Because sometimes, if you don’t laugh in your life, you’ll cry, slice or not. But that’s altogether another story!This tale is dedicated to all the Nivanfield writers and artists who always give our fandom so much to celebrate, particularly at this special time of year. And to @puppynivans of course, for keeping the celebrations going!





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Martha Nivans, Ruff and 'going Zen’ are all attributable to @redfieldandnivans. Thanks guys! Project Cerberus, Finn’s Gran and donuts are the brainchildren of @theosymphany, marvelous! The rest of it is my fault … and my urologist’s. Ha!

Early one June morning in 2016:

A half-awake Chris looked at the sleeping form beside him. He’d never imagined he could blame something, someone, so perfect. But there was no denying it. It was all Piers’ fault. No one else’s, not this time. He rubbed his eyes, then lifted the top sheet and peered underneath. If he needed any evidence, there it was … or rather, there it wasn’t. Normally he would have growled; but this time he remained silent. He was afraid … afraid it might come out sounding like a squeak.

It had all started earlier in the week. The morning of the fire …

****************************

A large body suddenly loomed over the desk in the adjutant’s office. Then two equally large hands, scarred and calloused from a lifetime’s combat, landed heavily on top of the tidy desk. “Have you seen Captain Nivans anywhere Adj?”

The SOU’s adjutant looked up from his desk, his answer at the ready. “He went out about half an hour ago Sir. I’m pretty sure he went for a medical.” Captain Redfield was always asking where Captain Nivans was. They might just as well share the same office thought the Adj. It would save him a lot of time and effort.

"Harrumph! First I’ve heard of it! We gave blood last week. And it’s not long since we had our check-ups after returning from you know where.” Chris still didn’t like to talk about his and Piers’ second visit to Edonia. “What more do those bloody Doctors want?”

The young Corporal smiled. As the SOU’s chief administrator and secretary it was his job to be both helpful and informed. “I think it was his regular scan Captain. You know, the quarterly one.” Piers had had a three-monthly MRI scan ever since his return from Lanshiang, three years previously. The Adj remembered, even if Chris didn’t.

“Already! Shit, where does the time go?”

“Captain?”

“Never mind Adj, just talking to myself.”

“Oh, first signs you know Captain, just like the saying.”

“What saying?” Chris frowned, his heavy brows furrowing. It should have been recognized for the warning it was.

“Talking to yourself Sir, first signs of mad … ness … um, er …” The Adjutant realized he was digging himself a hole, a deep one, and immediately stopped speaking; finishing instead with an uneasy silence.

Chris glared at him. “Please tell Captain Nivans I’d like to see him when he gets back, if that’s not _too_ much trouble Adjutant. Before the men in white coats come to take me away!”

“Yes Sir, sorry Sir.”

“You will be Adj, you will be. Cos’ I’ll make sure they take you first!” Chris grinned wickedly, then returned to his office and stared gloomily at the pile of new paperwork on his already overflowing desk. That was why he needed Piers. Piers would sort it all out, he always did. Chris wondered how he’d coped with his admin before his Ace arrived. He squinted, trying to recall the time in his mind’s eye. Then it dawned on him. It was obvious really. He hadn’t coped, simples.

 **“FIRE, FIRE, FIRE …”** The PA message shattered his reverie.

**“… There is a fire in the base medical centre, location Hotel Seven, repeat Hotel Seven. All non-essential medical personnel are to report to their emergency muster stations. Fire and Paramedic Teams immediate response. I say again, FIRE, FIRE, FIRE …”**

“What the fu … ?” As the message was repeated, Chris only had one thought. “Piers is there!” A thick finger jabbed the speed-dial button. “Eric? Chris Redfield here, what the hell’s happening?”

Major Simms wasn’t his usual cheery self. “Ah, Redfield. Thought you’d call. Your boy’s only gone and attacked the bloody scanner …”

“Attacked? What do you mean attacked?”

“With that electric arm of his. They only just pulled him out in time. Apparently he was …”

“Don’t bother explaining, I’m on my way!”

****************************

Chris found Piers sitting in the back of an ambulance. He was still wearing the blue, backless medical smock he’d changed into for the scan. But now he also had a blanket draped around his shoulders. The normally immaculate bangs were badly singed and in disarray. One latte eyebrow was missing and the high cheek bones were blackened with soot.

“Ace, Oh Ace! Are you Ok? What on earth happened?”

Piers looked dazed and rather embarrassed. “I, I fell asleep … in the scanner. It’s so noisy, and claustrophobic. So I did the Zen thing, you know, chilled out. Next thing I know I wake up in the underwater facility; so I start shooting my way out …”

“With your … ?”

“Um, yeah.” Piers held his right arm out. The veins were still glowing white, and sparks of blue plasma continued to flicker around his fingertips.

“Jesus, was anyone else hurt?”

“No, the nurses were great. They pulled me out of the scanner and got me here. I don’t think they had time to be shocked. I need to go and thank them.”

“No you don’t! You stay here and get patched-up first.”

“I’m fine, don’t fuss Chris.”

“You’re not fine … your hair’s a mess!”

“That’s the least of my worries. What concerns me is how and why I lost control.”

“All in good time Ace, let’s find you some proper clothes first. Your, um, best asset is showing in that smock.” Chris grinned as Piers blushed. “Uh-oh, watch out! Here comes Eric, and he doesn’t look too happy!”

“Ah, there you are. Thought I’d find you two together. You alright Captain Nivans? Of course you are, indestructible. It’s my beautiful scanner that’s toast! But it’s you I want to talk to Captain Redfield. My office if you please, now.”

“But …”

“No buts. The fire’s out and Captain Nivans is in safe hands. We’re clear to go back in the building now. You can collect your young arsonist later.” They entered the Major’s office and Eric shut the door for privacy, then opened the window. “See if we can’t get rid of the smell of smoke eh? Sit down Captain.”

Chris remained standing, arms folded across his broad chest. “Look, if this is about Piers …”

“What? No! I mean we’ll investigate of course, there’s still so much we don’t understand … No, I want to talk about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Now do sit down.” Chris sat. “There now, that’s better. Hmm, let’s get your results up …” Eric Simms switched on his PC hesitantly, as if half-expecting it to give him an electric shock.

“Seems to be working …” He scrolled down a list of files. “… Ah yes! Here they are, mmm, just as I thought …” Eric peered closely at the data.

“What’s up Doc? Ha!”

“Most amusing Captain. What’s up? Your PSA level, that’s what.”

“My PSA? What’s that?”

“Prostate-specific antigen. It’s an indicator for problems with your prostate gland.”

“Prostrate …?”

“Pros _tate_ Man! There’s no 'R’ in it! People never pronounce it properly. Now, any trouble with the old soldier lately? A burning sensation when you go for a pee perhaps? Lack of, er, oomph in the bedroom department?“

"Bedroom? What? No, he, it, is fine! Ask Piers … no, on second thoughts don’t!”

“Oh dear.”

“I don’t like the sound of that Doc.”

“Neither do I. Let’s give you a quick ultrasound scan. On the bed there, now roll your shirt up and loosen your pants. Lucky for you I dabble in urology.”

“Dabble? Where does that rank in the scale of military competency?”

“I shall treat that remark with the contempt it deserves, especially coming from you! Now lie still. I’m just going to apply some ultrasound gel first. It might feel cold.”

“Uff!”

“Good! Competency indeed! Hands behind your head please.”

Chris did as he was told. “Euro what did you call it?”

“Captain Redfield, really! Do you understand any words with more than one syllable?”

“Um …”

“Urology is the study of diseases of the male and female urinary tract and of the male reproductive organs. A useful _competency_ in the military.”

“Ok, Ok, I geddit, I’m sorry. And what’s this thing again?” Chris nodded in the direction of the machine standing by the side of the bed and which Eric now sat in front of.

“It’s an ultrasound scanner. Bit like a sonar; sends out high frequency pulses into the body and we see the returns reflected off the internal organs here on this display.”

Chris peered across at the screen. “Looks like an aircraft’s weather radar.”

“It’s the same analogy. Now breathe in, and when I say, hold it.”

“Hold what! Ha!”

“Don’t speak man! This is serious. Breathe in. Hmm, alright, breathe normally whilst I make some adjustments, let’s change the frequency here … Alright, now breathe in again, hold it … Mmm, still a bit fuzzy … keep still … No, it’s still not clear.” Major Simms fiddled with some dials whilst he measured part of the on-screen image. “Volume’s a bit high, 36 ml. It’s inconclusive, we need a proper scan, what’s called an MRI with contrast.”

“We do?”

“Yes. That will look inside your prostate.”

“Ok Doc. An MRI with contrast it is.”

“Yes, but not here, not now. Your young man …”

“… just fried it?”

“Exactly. I’m not sure where the closest scanner is. We could fix you up in the nearest military facility I suppose, or Bethesda, in Washington. They’ve got a scanner, several in fact.”

“No way! This stays here, on base. I’m not having non-BSAA people prodding my uro-whatsits!”

“Well, it could be a month or so till we have a replacement scanner. Are you absolutely sure?”

“You wanna’ try me? You know how I feel about hospitals at the best of times. Let alone ones run by total strangers!”

“Alright, have it your way Captain. But until then we’ll play safe and put you on a course of hormone therapy. On that I must insist.”

“You gotta’ be kidding me?”

“I’m afraid not. Let me explain, we use a non-steroidal anti-androgen, a bicalutamide, like nimodex to …”

Chris put his hand up. “I lost you at 'explain’ Doc. Two syllables you see.”

Eric sighed. “You _might_ , and I emphasize might, have a small, early cancer, in your prostate. Until we can get confirmation one way or the other from an MRI scan, we use hormone therapy to shut down the production of testosterone. That will stop any potential cancer in the prostate growing, and, most importantly, stop it spreading.”

Chris tried to assimilate the knowledge, but his thoughts had become fuzzy. He was still preoccupied worrying about Piers. God, he needed a coffee, strong, black, two sugars. No, better make that three.

“Cancer? Oh.”

“Are you sure you won’t go to Bethesda? We’d get an answer within days.”

“I don’t want one! We’ll try these therapeutic thingies of yours first.”

“It’s hormone _therapy_. And there will be side-effects.”

“I’m not mad, I don’t need therapy! You got any coffee?”

“Coffee later Redfield. Now listen to me, carefully, whilst I explain it again … in words of one syllable I suppose …”

****************************

Eric’s explanation took a long time, and, like all good Doctors, he saved the best till last.

“… And of course, you’re temporarily unfit for active duty.”

“What!”

“Haven’t you been listening man! This treatment will make you tired and sleepy, amongst other things. And you might find your emotions run away with you occasionally; even tears at times. Can’t have you SOU action men falling down on the job, what? Ha, ha, ha! Same goes for Captain Nivans by the way.”

“He’s not sleepy, or weepy!”

“No, he just goes around blowing things up. It’s very bad for morale, especially mine. You’re both grounded pending further investigation and treatment. I suppose I’ll have to let Command know. That will mean talking to that dreadful Valentine woman. My day just keeps getting worse.”

“Tell me about it!” grumbled Chris. “Hang fire on talking to Jill for the moment Doc. Least said …”

“… soonest mended. My sentiments exactly!”

Major Simms took a sheet of paper from a stack on his desk and wrote something on it. “Righto, here’s your prescription Captain. Nimodex 150 mg. Take one a day, last thing at night. Cheerio then, we’ll do coffee another time.”

Chris frowned, peering at the illegible writing as if it were some dodgy runic incantation. “Um, don’t I even get a donut to-go?”

“What? Oh, good grief, in all the excitement I’ve forgotten to order them! Sorry old man, you’ll have to try your luck elsewhere. Now, remember all I’ve told you and watch out for those side-effects. If you have any problems, you know where I am. Toodle pip.”

“Yeh, er pip, pip to you too Doc.”

But although Eric had emphasized the side-effects, in Chris’ mind the very term had already placed them way down his list of priorities. Side-effects were side-issues the big man figured. It was obvious from the name. That was one thing Doctors were good at, naming things.

So when the side-effects did happen, and within just a few days of starting the hormone therapy, they came as rather something of a shock …

****************************

July was already jostling June, and spring was fast slipping into summer. Alpha Team had turned up for their regular pre-breakfast run in shorts and trainers as per usual. Chris, however, arrived in a loose fitting tee and he seemed ill at ease. Sergeant Andy Walker eyed him suspiciously.

“Er, do you want us to change Boss? You didn’t say to dress warm.” it was almost an accusation. The convention was that the team dressed as did their Captain. So only Piers wore a tee, one of Chris’ cast-offs, and already he was feeling hot in the still morning air.

“No, er, yes … Oh, you decide Piers.”

Piers sensed Chris was floundering for some reason, so he immediately took charge. “Of course we should all wear the same. You heard the Captain. Go and change quickly whilst we warm up.”

As they ran back to change, Andy’s mind was already racing ahead. “ _You heard the Captain._ What the fuck was that supposed to mean Carl? The Boss didn’t actually give a precise order. He sounded plain indecisive to me. What do you think?”

“Gotta’ agree with you man. Somethin’s up for sure.” Carl nodded sagely.

“Perhaps Cap'in’s got a cold.” volunteered Finn, who always looked for a simple solution to life’s problems

“He could always get No.2 Captain to warm him up. Just like he warmed up that hospital scanner.” Andy sniggered.

“Andy!”

“What Ben? You got something to say?”

“I’m sure the Captain knows what he’s doing.”

“Nah, not this time. Carl’s right, something’s up.”

“It’s probably nothing, forget it you two. You don’t want to cross the Captain, let alone El Tee.”

“No, something’s definitely up. And if it isn’t, it soon will be … ain’t that right Carl ol’ buddy?”

“I’m working up some implausible storylines as we speak, hehe.”

“Bozos! You always take things too far. Come on Finn, best you and I stay out of this.” Ben tried to pull Finn away.

“Well Cap'in did seem a bit flustered back there Ben. And No.2 Captain’s still short of an eyebrow. There’s no smoke without fire, that’s what my Gran always says.”

“Finn! Sometimes I think your Gran says too much, and you too. It always takes time to settle down after active field duty. Who knows what went down in Edonia?”

“Yes Ben, sorry Ben.”

But when Chris failed to take the lead from Ben on the last lap of their run, and pulled up clearly short of breath, even the faithful soldier had to worry. Something _was_ up. Something big.

Ben knew better than to ask Chris point blank, so he trotted over to Piers. “Er, Captain Nivans Sir. Is, is everything Ok? With the Captain I mean?”

“Everything’s fine Ben, puff. Nothing for you, pant, to worry about.”

“Yes Sir.”

But Piers was soon by Chris’ side, just in time as Chris leant heavily on him. Piers quickly realized he had to take charge of the situation again. “Listen up Alpha, Captain Redfield and I have some chores. Go shower and change. We’ll join you in the chow hall for breakfast shortly …”

Back in the changing room Andy immediately turned to Ben. “He said that? 'Nothing for you to worry about.’ Well that obviously means there _is_ something doesn’t it?”

“Andy’s right Ben, you can’t deny it.” said Carl.

“Remember Ben, no smoke without fire, just like my Gran said.”

“Shut up Finn!”

“No, you’re right Finny.” Andy put a friendly arm around the Corporal’s shoulder. “Listen, when they come in to change next time, you just hang around. You’re always gawping, they won’t think it odd. But keep your eyes peeled. Find out what you can, you know, casually. Will you do that for me, buddy?” Andy squeezed Finn’s shoulder affectionately.

“Er, yes Andy, if you say so.”

“Good boy, good boy.” Andy squeezed his shoulder again.

Ben made one last try. “Finny, don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“I know Ben, but if Cap'in is ill, it’s my duty to help. After all, I am Alpha’s medic.”

Ben couldn’t argue with that, so he just looked on and shook his head in resignation. He knew Andy and Carl weren’t really being malicious. Inventing rumors was something they did to relieve the boredom in-between missions, like soldiers the world over. And Finn saw good in everyone. But sometimes, just sometimes, Alpha Team’s senior sergeant and his sidekick could be A1 assholes.

****************************

“What just happened out there Chris?”

“I meant to tell you Ace, honest. Major Simms has grounded you …”

“Well, I guessed he would. But that doesn’t explain why you pulled-up winded.”

“Um, well, he’s grounded me too.”

“Oh Chris! Why didn’t you tell me sooner … and why?”

“I’m telling you now. You had enough on your plate. I suppose it’s these therapeutic hormonal thingies Eric’s got me on.”

“What hormone things?”

“My BSA level’s gone up.”

“You mean PSA?”

“Um, possibly, yeah, the prostrate thing. It spiked.”

“So let me get this straight. Your PSA level has increased, and Major Simms is giving you hormone therapy treatment?”

“Er, yes.”

“And you didn’t think that was important enough to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you, you’ve got problems of your own just now. Who looks after you?”

“I see. We’ll get back to that later. Didn’t he tell you about the likely side-effects?”

“Yes, but I didn’t take it in really. You know me and Doctors. If it ain’t broken … What? Don’t look at me like that. I was more worried about you at the time, and wondering if I’d get a donut. I didn’t by the way.”

“Huh? Don’t blame me Bear!”

“Well who else do I blame? Major Simms?”

“How 'bout some self-analysis here Bearfield?”

“Oh Piers, don’t go all Californian on me now. Try and speak in English.”

“THIS IS EXACTLY THE FUCKING SHIT WE SHOULD TALK ABOUT!”

“What?”

“YOU, BOTTLING THINGS UP.”

“Don’t shout at me, please.”

“I’M NOT SHOU … ting. Sorry, sorry. Look, Chris, this is important. How can I help you if you don’t tell me stuff?”

“Sorry Ace.”

“It’s no good us both being sorry Babe. Let’s talk this through, calmly. You can start by telling me exactly what Eric said …”

****************************

“… and then he said 'It’s hormone therapy. And there would be side-effects.’ And I said 'I’m not mad, I don’t need therapy’, which is when I asked if he’d got any coffee.”

“And what did he say then?”

“He said he didn’t. And then he got kinda’ mad at me.”

“I know how that feels!”

“And don’t look like that. 'Specially with only one eyebrow. Looks like you’ve got a nervous tic.”

“Well I hope it doesn’t get out for both our sakes. Already there’s some unbelievable stories doing the rounds about what I did in the hospital the other day.”

“Andy and Carl?”

“Almost certainly, but the who’s not important. It’s the what people think that matters.”

“They’ll think what I tell them.” Chris smacked a large fist into an equally large palm.

“Don’t go off on one Babe, please?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”

“Already? And you wonder why I’m worried.”

“Oh haw, haw! You know you can be very hurtful sometimes Ace. But I forgive you. You must have bumped your head during your _shocking_ rampage.”

“See! That’s exactly what I mean. Already you believe there was a rampage. There _was_ _no_ rampage!”

“So you destroyed the scanner in your sleep?”

“No, yes, I was half-awake, it was the circumstances … argh!” the finger tips of Piers’ right hand crackled.

“Hey, chill, go Zero Piers. I was only teasin’. I’m concerned about you.”

Piers took a deep, calming breath. “Really?”

“Of course really.”

“Well I’m concerned about you too.”

“Pah, it’s probably something of nothing. Doctors always like the opportunity to poke around; it’s in their blood. Right now you’re my number one priority. Whatever I may, or may not have, will keep.”

“Not for long. You do realize what the therapy is for?”

“Yeah, Eric did mention it. Something to do with testosterone and stuff. Ha, I already got plenty of that!”

“Chris, don’t be flippant. It’s important.”

“And so are you. Enough with the nagging. Nothing’s gonna’ happen soon, Eric said.”

Piers raised a brow-less eye. “If you say so Babe.”

“I do! You’re my primary concern right now, end-of! You need therapy too.”

Piers smiled. “Yeah, maybe your right Dadfield. Ok then. Let’s go see Eric tomorrow, together this time, and clear matters up. But no more secrets between us, do you understand?”

Chris looked down at his feet. “Yes Boss.”

****************************

The speed of things took Chris by surprise. “Piers, I’ve got tits!”

Piers did his best to defuse the situation. “No need to boast Babe. We’ve all got them, it’s perfectly normal.”

“No, big ones!”

“Yes, yours are large, I’ll grant you that.”

“No, no, I mean large, floppy ones, like …” Chris looked around furtively as if someone might be eavesdropping; and his voice reduced to a whisper. “… like a woman’s.”

“Moobs.”

“I’m not in a mood! They weren’t there yesterday, I swear.”

“Moobs, with a b, man-boobs. Let me see.”

“No. I’m telling you they’ve gone floppy. I know my own boobs Piers.”

“And so do I. Let me see.”

“No!”

“CHRISTOPHER!”

“Here.”

“Don’t give me a flash. Let me look properly … See, there’s nothing … Oh, jeez!”

“I told you. They’ve gone all wobbly. Ouch! Shit, don’t do that! My nipples are really sensitive.”

“I wondered why you slept with your back to me last night.”

“It get’s worse.”

“What? At night?”

“No dammit! My little soldier, well … he’s little.”

“How little?”

“Half.”

“Er, that still leaves a lot.”

“Not for me, or you. I know what a size king you are.”

“It’s size queen and I’m not!” Piers rolled his eyes. “Come on, let me look … OMG! It’s …”

“Argh! See, I told you! And my hair’s gone all funny, sorta’ flat and straggly. Er, what are you doing Ace?”

“Looking for your hoodie and baggy sweatpants. You’ll need another cover-up job for today’s team run!”

“Wahh!”

****************************

Finn hadn’t spied on Chris and Piers. He’d known it would be wrong. His experiences since the bombing the year before had toughened him up. He was no longer the pushover Sgt Walker expected him to be. So perhaps it was just a lucky guess when Andy Walker sauntered up to Chris in search of information before they started their run later that morning after having had to change yet again.

“Anything you wanna’ get off your chest Boss?” Andy enquired innocently. Carl stifled a snigger.

“What? No, nothing Andy.” But the keen-eyed sergeant couldn’t help but notice how Chris brought his arms up to cover his chest; a chest that seemed even bigger than usual.

“So, keeping abreast of things then Boss?” Carl lost it, so did Piers.

“Walker, Alfonso. Start running … NOW! AND DON’T STOP UNTIL I DAMN WELL SAY SO!”

****************************

“We’ll have to tell them Chris.”

“You do it then.”

“They’re your team.”

“I can’t face it, not at the moment Piers … Sometimes … sometimes I wish it would all go away, you know? The responsibility. I just wanna’ curl up in a ball and go to sleep …”

“Well you do like a nap.”

“… but now I don’t ever wanna’ wake up.”

“That’s not right Chris!”

“I know, I know. But I just can’t fight it anymore. It all seems too much effort. What’s happening to me? I’ve got no energy!”

“It’s the hormone therapy. Testosterone is what gets men up in the morning. You’ve lost it temporarily. It’ll come back, don’t worry.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

“You’re Chris 'I do what I want’ Redfield. Of course it will. These drugs have a half-life, the effects wear off eventually.”

“That’s all I’ve got at the moment, half a life.” Chris whined.

“Ok, enough of this! We’re gonna’ do what we’ve been promising ourselves for a long, long time.”

“What?”

“Take a vacation, just you and me.”

“Huh? I don’t need a holiday, I’m not sick!”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But I sure could do with a break.”

“You! B,but your Piers Nivans, my Ace, you never take a break.”

“I do now.”

And what about the Ruffster, er, and Cristobal? They’ve both been alone enough this year.“

"Cristobal doesn’t count, besides, we’d spend more time driving him than holidaying. And Ruffy’s got a job to do.”

“He does? What?”

“He’s gonna’ be a therapy dog, for Danny. He’s walking now, with the aid of a stick, right? What better therapy than taking Ruffy for a walk too? The boys can stay in the Deuce of Hearts, look after the place and Ruffy at the same time. Whad’ya’ think?”

“Um, I’m not so … Oh, you decide for me.”

“See? You need this just as much as me. And whatever your plan was, this one will be even better. If we’re both gonna’ be in therapy let’s do it somewhere away from wagging tongues and idle gossip. What do you say Chris? Just the two of us?”

“But …”

“Wax your board Babe, we’re going to California. We’ll stay with Ma, she’s been on at me for ages to visit with you. And perhaps you can do something for me whilst we’re there.”

“I can? Such as?”

“Wait and see. But you got a big role to play in this holiday Babe.”

“I’m not sure I want that, the responsibility.”

“Trust me, you will.”

“If you say so Ace.”

“I do. But first of all we’ve got some loose ends to tie-up here.”

“We have? Can’t you do it? I feel so tired.”

“All you gotta’ do is back me up.”

“You got that look in your eye Piers. Someone’s in trouble.”

“Yeah, Sergeants Walker and Alfonso. It’s payback time, and it’s gonna’ be a bitch! Now, I need to make some phone calls.”

“Your Ma?”

“Amongst others. Just leave things to me.”

“Willingly! But go easy on them later Piers. You know we don’t have secrets on Alpha.”

However, Piers had made his mind up. “No, Chris. Those two have gone too far this time. They need teaching a lesson!”

****************************

But before Piers could break the bad news, Major Simms had some news of his own.

“… See, at first, Captain Nivans’ biometric readings are a little high, then they gradually settle down.”

“That’s Piers going Zen.” said Chris.

“Going what?”

“Zen. It’s a technique we’ve developed from talking to guys who teach bodyguard skills.” Piers explained. “It’s kinda’ similar to the 'don’t pull your weapon unless you’re ready to use it’ mentality. We’ve refined it using the meditation techniques we practice in our Japanese garden at home. Hence me going to Zen, or Zero, means I keep my outward aura, my energy, to a minimum, until it’s needed.”

“Yeh, it’s like my Ace becomes invisible on purpose in plain sight …” added Chris proudly. “… it helps calm his arm down, gives him more control. It really works.”

“Usually!” Piers snorted.

“Very interesting. Well, I think this was all about control, or rather losing it, due to new and unforeseen circumstances. Observe this moment closely.” They were looking at a video of the scene in the scanner room, Piers was almost out of sight, lying inside the big machine. There were several waveforms at the bottom of the picture, including Piers’ bio-metrics and the scanning frequency. “Captain Nivans is asleep now, see the brainwave pattern? Classic Gamma waves at 40hz. As soon as the new scan cycle starts he responds almost immediately.”

“Wow! Flash, bang, wallop Ace! Look at you go!”

“Chris! You mean the scan frequency somehow interfered with my brainwaves Major?”

“Yes, the new scan had a strong sub-harmonic around 41hz, almost identical to your gamma wave fundamental. It’s not one we’ve used before. They’re normally at much higher frequencies. This is fascinating, it could give us a new insight into your abilities Captain Nivans.”

“So not all bad news then?”

“No, far from it. Of course, we’ll need to conduct further tests …” Eric caught Piers’ cold look. “… er, if you were willing.”

But Piers hadn’t forgotten his time in the Tianjin medical facility. It remained a painful memory. “I, I don’t know.”

“Piers means we’ll think about it Eric. You _do_ understand?” it wasn’t really a question.

“Loud and clear Old Bean. These things all take their time.”

“So we’re good to go?”

“Apart from explaining the loss of the scanner to Colonel Valentine, yes.”

“Advise Command it was an electrical fault, power surge, whatever. And that video, classify it Secret, for _our_ eyes only. Capiche?”

“Of course Captain Redfield, I’m more than happy to oblige.” Eric gave a conspiratorial wink. “How are you getting on with the hormone therapy by the way?”

“I feel like crap, I need a dick extension and a breast reduction! Apart from that I’m fine.”

“I did warn you Captain.”

“Yes you did Doctor. And you were right, goddammit!”

“I could prescribe you a daily vitamin supplement …”

“No, no more pills! Piers is taking me on vacation, that’s all the medicine I need right now. It will be therapy for both of us.”

Major Simms smiled; even Doctors know that love is sometimes the best medicine of all. Then he took out a cakebox from his desk draw. “And on that happy note, let me ask you gentlemen … jam, or cream?”

****************************

“Room 'shun!” Alpha Team stood to attention when Chris and Piers entered the briefing room. Chris raised a lethargic hand for them all to sit, but didn’t speak himself. He was more than content to let Piers do all the running.

Piers wore the thin-lipped, intimidating expression he’d perfected over the years whilst serving on Alpha. He was carrying a black briefcase in one hand and a clipboard in the other. The team looked on with mounting consternation as he positioned them fastidiously on the desk in-front of him. “Listen up Alpha. Captain Redfield and I are taking a couple of weeks break.”

“Why Sir?” It was Andy, always the first to speak for the team.

“Doctor’s orders Sergeant.” Piers answered flatly

“What orders Captain?” pushed Andy.

“That’s medical in-confidence, and you know it Andy. Besides, does it matter? You’ll make something up. You’re good at that, you and Carl.”

“I resemble that Sir!” said an aggrieved senior sergeant.

“Tough! Let’s see how good you both are with something factual.”

“Such as, Captain?

"All in good time Carl” Piers glanced down at his clipboard. “Ben, you first.”

“Yes Sir?”

“Some instruction I think.”

“Oh!”

“Don’t worry Ben, you’ll be the instructor.”

“I will?”

“Yeh, some British Army base near a place called Hereford. Ever hear of it?”

“The home of the SAS Regiment? You bet!”

“Two weeks as a guest instructor on Bioterrorism and BOWs. They like to keep up to speed on these things apparently.” Piers took out a thick envelope from his case. Your itinerary, tickets, allowances and course syllabus are all here. Ok?“

"Sir, yes Sir! Oh boy Finny, you hear that? The SAS, they’re like the super elite.”

Finn grinned, then heard his own name called out.

“Corporals Macauley and Svenson.”

“Yes Captain?” Under the desk, Finn reached out to Danny’s hand for support.

“Special duties. Care and maintenance of BSAA property in our absence, and all part of your physiotherapy Danny.” Piers smiled affectionately as he reached into his case once more and took out a set of house keys … and a dog leash.

“Lodging at the Deuce of Hearts, maintaining said property and it’s occupant.”

“Ruff?” enquired Danny.

Piers nodded. “He’s expecting you both. I told him you were coming. He said Arr-woo!”

Danny squeezed Finn’s hand tightly. “Yesss!”

“What else you got in that case Captain?” asked Andy suspiciously.

“Um, yeah, what about Andy and me Sir?” Carl sounded worried now.

“Ah yes, last, but by no means least. Sergeants Walker and Alfonso. It’s something close to my heart boys. So it’s _very_ important.” Piers gave them both a meaningful look. The chilling, hard, one. “Project Cerberus. Before Chris and I left last winter, Command requested a top-down assessment of the Cerberus training program compared to the existing one. You have two weeks to provide a Command-level report on my most cherished project. I’m sure you won’t let me down. I’ve got a draft of the required contents outlined and formatted here …” Piers held up a thick file in one hand. “… and continued in here.” He pulled out another equally thick file. Andy turned to Carl and whispered.

“No time for gossip Sergeant Walker. I suggest you both start right away. The Director NAB is expecting your first draft in a week’s time …”

Piers noted the pair of silently gaping mouths. For once there was no smart-Alec comeback. He smiled at them. “… Any questions? No? Good, that’s what I thought.”

“Er, what do I do?” it was Chris.

“You come with me, hehe!”

“Captain?” Andy Walker looked to Chris for some support.

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “Just do what the man says Andy, and no one will get hurt.”

****************************

Martha Nivans had been kindness itself. Piers had explained the situation to her beforehand, he didn’t want Chris to feel embarrassed. So she’d let them chill-out, even though her natural instinct had been to mother them 24/7. But she made sure they left for the beach each morning with full bellies and picnic lunches. And when they came home in the evening there was plenty of hot bathwater for tired muscles and a large hot meal to follow.

She was happy to have her eldest son and his partner home. Chris was her best friend too. And whatever other problems he had, his butt was still a source of wonder to her. She loved the way both the boys blushed red when she patted said source, it was soo cute … those images would continue to warm her days long after they’d gone.

And Piers Nivans achieved his twin goals. Firstly, some much needed therapy for both him and Chris. With no responsibilities, Chris relaxed, and with Martha and Piers’ care, the side-effects seemed less threatening and more manageable. And secondly, for Piers himself, he conquered one of his biggest fears since Lanshiang, his fear of water.

On the morning of their first full day he’d taken down the blue and yellow triple-fin surfboard that hung up in the back of the garage. The one that his childhood friend, Jason, the Marine, had bequeathed him fourteen years earlier. Piers had unwrapped it carefully. Then cleaned it, checked it for dings, and finally waxed it. Then he’d headed straight for Arrowhead Point with Chris in tow. He’d given Chris his father’s’ old Malibu board to use; though Piers realized his partner might not get actually get around to using it in his current listless state. But he would be there, on the beach, shouting out his support and encouragement; just like Jason had been all those years before. Which was exactly what Piers needed and exactly what Chris did. Until one particular day … an anniversary …

Chris glanced down at his diver’s watch and smiled to himself. “Whad’ya’ know Redfield? It’s July 1st.” He looked up, just as Piers carved an overhead. He could hear the joyful ‘ _Cowabunga'_ shouted above the pounding of the surf, could see Piers’ delighted grin as he punched the air.

Chris decided there and then he wouldn’t mention the date to his partner. 'If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it Captain …’

But there was something else too, a sense of determination he thought he’d lost. Chris knew in his heart of hearts that he hadn’t got cancer, he knew the inner working of his body like the back of his scarred hands. It had been foolish pride, and an innate fear of hospitals that had got him to this state, not lack of knowledge. It wasn’t Piers’ fault, it never had been.

’… and if my Piers can conquer his deepest fears, then so can I.’ He would go to Bethesda on their return, have the damn scan, come off the therapy and get back to normal. Because he was his Ace’s Captain. And his Ace deserved the best.

He grabbed the old Mal under one arm and ran towards the sea.

“Hey, hang on Piers, wait for me!” Chris bellowed, waving his free hand.

Piers shook the salt spray from his hair and waived back. “Yeeewww, Captain!


End file.
